


A Daughter Trough the Eyes of the Father

by for_darkness_shows_the_stars



Series: Potentiam Tuam Sanguinem [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Skywalkers are eldritch horrors I'm sorry I don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_darkness_shows_the_stars/pseuds/for_darkness_shows_the_stars
Summary: Raising a child is difficult.Raising a Force-sensitive child in the time of the Galactic Empire is even harder.Raising a literal descendant of the Force--near impossible.
Relationships: Bail Organa & Leia Organa, Padmé Amidala & Bail Organa
Series: Potentiam Tuam Sanguinem [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711054
Comments: 10
Kudos: 125
Collections: Eldritch Star Wars





	A Daughter Trough the Eyes of the Father

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!!!

**A Daughter through the Eyes of the Father**

She is fifteen already, Bail thinks morosely, as he watches his dearest Leia sit down on one of the cushioned benches in the Aldera Royal Palace’s library, and chat with one of her friends, a minor nobleman’s daughter from one of the portside towns.

Leia’s small body is enveloped in a billowing white gown, customary to Alderaan, a delicate blush tinting her porcelain-smooth skin, lips full and rosy, glossy brown locks, _~~just like Padmé’s~~_ ~~, a treasonous part of his mind hisses~~ , tamed into an elaborate coronet atop her head, with a few errant strands escaping the style.

She is giggling, one pale, dove-like hand pressed to her mouth, eyes crinkiling with amusement. The nobleman’s daughter is laughing as well, twirling her long auburn braid in her fingers.

Then, on one swift, fluid motion, Leia gets up, and offers the girl a helping hand.

The Viceroy clamps his lips together and bites the inside of his cheek so strongly that he tastes blood.

Too fluid. Too smooth. Too perfect. Humans don’t _move_ the way Leia does sometimes, like gravity and other physical forces are a mere suggestion, one she has chosen to ignore. He wonders if she ever notices it. He hopes not, that would only make his job all that harder. Or maybe she does notice, and is simply choosing to ignore it. That’s what Bail would do, if he were in her place, straddled with mysterious powers he knows not the nature nor the origin of.

Bail loves his daughter, his sweet, brilliant little girl, more than anything in the galaxy. He would give his life for her, no questions asked. Sometimes, he feels he would even be capable of selling out the Alliance and everything he stands for this girl.

But sometimes … sometimes she frightens him. The potential she carries. The way that sometimes, when she is dancing, or practicing martial arts and blaster targeting, looking at her feels like she is the one standing in place, and the world around her shifting and changing at her whim.

Bail remembers the Jedi of Old, and he remembers what they could and could not do, and this, they could not. _~~Well, most of them~~_ ~~, that same part reminds him, venom dripping out of its smug tone.~~

She is to be presented to the Emperor in a year. A year. It’s a warm summer day, yet Bail shivers in non-existent cold at the mere thought of that deformed monster getting anywhere within a kilometre of her. Actually, scratch that. If he had any choice, the Emperor and his sweet Leia wouldn’t even share a galaxy.

He loves his daughter so much that it, too, scares him now and then, but sometimes, when he’s alone and deep in thought, he wonders how much easier their lives would be if Leia were just a bit more … normal. Conventional.

And then he is disgusted with himself and buries the thought so deep that it only re-emerges when he is alone, and on, and on the cruel cycle goes, driving him into madness and despair.

Sometimes, Bail wonders if this is his penance for taking Padmé’s daughter before her corpse had cooled on the stark metal table she drew her last breath on. Stealing her.

Stealing her from Anakin.

Anakin, who was brilliant, and untamed, and blazing his way through the darkness.

Anakin, who was kind, and sweet, and terribly anxious.

Anakin, looking at him with too old, too sad eyes on too young of a face, the mass of his responsibilities weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Anakin, who burned and shone and blazed, as brightly as the sun … but even the stars burn out.

Anakin, who now kills and tortures and maims at the beck and call of the monster who sits upon the Imperial Throne, a monster he kneels for, a monster he calls Master.

Anakin, who calls himself Vader.

That thought helps him sleep at night.

_~~Leia continued to dance her way through life with that not-quite-mortal grace. If anyone ever noticed that her movements were too feline, that when she smiled, her teeth were too many and too sharp … they never said anything.~~ _

**Author's Note:**

> Look, guys, I love Bail Organa as much as the next person, but the circumstances of Leia's "adoption" always make me feel a bit ~icky~. So I figured it isn't quite so ~icky~ if he also feels ~icky~.
> 
> Boy, that's a lot of ~ickys~!


End file.
